Shift
by amb3rthy8t
Summary: The misadventures of Loki and a deity amongst the mundane.


His day had gone from bad to worse. The stitching of his cloak from Heimdall's eyes had undone, forcing him to take the form of other beasts and animals until he would be able to take a moment to breathe. He had been running from realm to realm and back up into another since the dawn of the day.

Darkness had already taken this one when he came, shifting into a small stray cat. The black coat he had created would easily help him to stride through the wilderness. Or well, a small wooded area. Loki was far from frustrated when he noted that he had no idea of where he was. Technically, all the truly knew of Earth was New York. From what he assumed, parts of it still laid in ruins.

After what seemed like hours of trotting through the trees and bushes, when it was most likely only one, he stumbled upon a stretch of flat asphalt. Unfortunately, he could not remember what it was used for, or at least what they were called. Not horses, but other devices. He began to follow it, sticking close to the edge. They always led somewhere. A noise came from behind him then suddenly, his vision went black, and his entire body ran numb.

It was not until the vehicle had completely receded into the dark of the street that the engine began to sputter and cough. The girl who had been fervently gripping onto the steering wheel was trying her best to propel the car forward as she continuously forced her foot onto the accelerator, finally spitting out a consistent stream of creatively phrased curses when the vehicle came to an inevitable halt. _"Damn it, come on. Don't die on me." _ She'd twisted the key in its ignition site umpteen times, and still her efforts soon proved to be barren. _"Son of a-" _Sevlyn stepped out of her car and approached the bonnet, lifting and propping it up to closely examine the engines. Her endeavors produced no gratifying result. She cast her eyes around, realizing that she was stranded in a dappled looking backstreet. Deciding to phone a friend, the woman swiped at the screen of her mobile, hoping to contact one of her colleagues from work.

_Out of coverage._

_You have got to be kidding me._

Lightning split the sky above her in a quick flash of white and yellow, followed by the crashing of thunder on its trail. The sound was colossally deafening, ending with a roaring note at the end, as if proclaiming dominance over the night. It seemed to take up most of her hearing, however still the ebonette managed to capture a completely different sound with her keen ears, something that sounded like the soft mews of a feline originating from her left side. She turned, and landed her gaze on a sleek, black cat with gleaming green eyes sitting complacently on the road. There was no unnoticing the deep gash that ran down its back, cutting deep into its furry skin.

The girl crouched and took a good look at the cat. "Looks to me that your day was _worse_ than mine." She spoke in a voice laced with unhindered sympathy.

The cat awoke to the sound of a woman cursing. His green eyes reflecting the light of the car that still resided from its headlights. When she approached him, his ears finally agreed to understand her words. Perhaps she could help. So long as she could bring him to civilization. If he could shift back to a natural form, he could heal properly. The cat smiled with his eyes, squinting and letting out a quiet and helpless 'meow' hoping that she would help relieve him of his pain.

Sevlyn observed the cat with controlled intensity in her eyes, her interest piqued by how ethereally graceful the movements of the feline was, considering the probability that it might have been attacked by a disagreeable lot of other strays. Being quite the avid animal lover, the girl had seemingly forgotten her troubles, slowly approaching the cat with light steps and bending down to gently lift it up. The wounds that ran down its back looked to be rather serious. She wondered if she could nurse it herself, considering the fact that the veterinary clinics would have been closed for the day by now.

"Looks like I'm obliged to take you home. I can't leave you out here all alone." A compassionate and sympathetic smile flickered across the small span of her lips. "Although I'm not quite sure if I'll able to get home tonight at all." The woman carried the cat to her backseat; her arms growing rather weary surprisingly quick as she realized the feline was a physically burdening weight to hold.

The lady shut the door and proceeded to examine her engines, tinkering and tampering at the systems, not entirely certain of her doings and fearing that she might be worsening the condition of her car instead….although somehow it magically sputtered to life after a series of seemingly unproductive meddling actions. She was taken aback by how healthy the car sounded as the engine ran smooth and unimpeded. Letting out a cry of victory, Sevlyn quickly entered the vehicle and settled in her driver's seat. She turned to ascertain that the cat was faring fine in the backseat, flashing it an excited smile.

"Bollocks to those who say black cats are bad luck!"

He had to heal like this, as much as he could before changing. Injuries on a feline would be different than his usual form, which when shifted he might find more damage and the healing would have to begin again. Agony was not something he wished to tolerate, which was why he felt as if he could trust the woman on sight. What other choice did he have?

The cat made no sounds when she picked him up and carried him to the vehicle. Once he was placed down carefully, he made certain that he was comfortable and closed his eyes. He listened as she attempted to find a way to start the engine, it was evident that she had no idea what she was doing and it seemed like no help would find her. Given the fact that he was already using most of his magic in attempts to heal, but if she would help take care of him properly, nudging the machine along would bring him towards a faster recovery.

After a few moments of concentration, the engine started. If it wasn't for the fact that cats were unable to laugh, he would have done so despite the pain when she mentioned the old superstition. Instead, the instinct to purr slightly kicked in and little motor ran. Felines had a tenancy to purr when in pain, so it fit. He only hoped that her dwelling wasn't too far away, a bumpy ride would loosen his threads of magic for healing.

Sevlyn sighed in relief as the car began to move down the street swift and unhampered. The thought of finally being able to arrive back home on time to continue her unfinished work she'd gathered from the office placated her. She'd intended to have the remaining amount of labor clear from her list by tonight. Only a few more recorded communications to deconstruct and some important material to analyze.

Thankfully it did not take long for the woman to return to the comforts of her own home. It was a cozy space that was slightly cluttered with possibly a few significant items currently in misplace; Sevlyn had neither the chance nor time to properly have her apartment rendered clean. She would need at least a few solid hours to purify the unkempt place of some unnecessary belongings. There was nothing that appealed to the eye, no extravagant embellishments of any sort, but it bore the ordinary coziness that was unachieved even in some of the most ornate of dwellings. That sufficed for Sevlyn, who saw herself as an ordinary woman who deserved ordinary things. It was her home and she wouldn't trade it for any other in the world. Sevlyn had her files wedged in her underarms and the injured feline occupying her hands. She had reassured the creature many a time over and over in the elevator that everything was going to be okay.

She carefully washed and meticulously cleaned out the wounds while bathing the cat, dabbing at it with carefully chosen liniments, making sure to have picked out the applicable ones that did not sting. She then gently wrapped the cat up in a thick towel. She had tried to cradle it like a child and maybe coo it to sleep, but it seemed to dislike the notion and Sevlyn stopped, reminding herself it was not a human baby she was caring for and placing it instead on her favorite bedding that was situated next to the glass window. It provided a striking view of the city, capturing enrapturing lights on skyscrapers against a starry backdrop and moving cars that were melded into a blur along the highways. The city was always especially beautiful at night.

"You're probably hungry. How does tuna sound?" Sevlyn scratched the behind of the feline's ear before heading off to the kitchen adjacent to her living room.

What he didn't like, was the fact that she took it upon herself to bathe him. Even though he wasn't technically a feline, instincts always came with the ability to change shape. He whined and shifted uncomfortably with the water. Soap and cleansing products stung a bit on his wounds.

Once the hellish bath was over, he was able to relax and calm himself, continuing to slowly heal, though being rocked like a child. It was strange though, the woman must have some sort of increased affection towards animals. Especially given the fact that he had been treated like an infant this entirety. But he didn't mind too much. When she offered him food, he almost grimaced. He didn't want to eat, but if he didn't, she'd find it to be a problem and make a fuss. Now he was forced with the dilemma of out-right rejecting it altogether, or attempting to eat and stain her bedding with bile.

Sevlyn returned with a small bowl of canned tuna, setting it before the creature and shifting her attention to the mass of arduous work in her hands. It occupied a certain amount of time that warranted a groan from the woman's throat, and she rejoiced internally once it had been completed. Deciding to take a shower and do some light reading before she settled in her bed, Sevlyn retreated into her room and cleansed herself quickly in the bath, slipping on her usual sleeping wear that consisted of a black tank top and a pair of tight green shorts.

Grabbing a literary volume that had caught her attention, a Fitzgerald classic, the woman settled next to the cat on the bedding and absorbed the scenic expanse of the city. This was always undeniably the favourite part of her day. As a child, she would spend enormous amounts of time admiring scenes out of the window in the orphanage, never really mingling with the other children and had always been one to function solitarily in society. But now that she's been offered to train and earn her position as a SHIELD agent it conceived the need to connect with other people, something she was never really used to doing, though it did not bother her.

As Sevlyn read her book, she subconsciously administered a gentle stroke on the cat, seemingly trying to find its sweet spot. Sevlyn would check on the wounds from time to time, calculating the appropriate times to change up the bandages.

"I should probably give you a name, although I'm not sure if you truly belong to me yet." The lady continued tickling its ear. "I think I'll call you….Fleetfoot. What do you think? It's a tad ridiculous, isn't it? It does suit you nonetheless." She chuckled, moving her fingers to the cat's neck to massage it.

"If only cats could speak," she muttered indistinctly with a laugh, turning back to the pages of her book.

As the women set about her duties, he decided on not touching the food. Resting his head down on his outstretched arms, he kept his eyes looking over towards the city lights from the window. After a time, his green eyes had fallen shut, the rest of his body relaxing, yet he wasn't asleep. Now it was easier to concentrate on healing. Hopefully by morning, he would be able to change shape and leave the woman's home without a trace.

His ears perked up slightly when she sat beside him, though his eyes remained shut. Though it was strange when she began to pet him. Loki wasn't used to be treated like an animal he seemed to be, but he played along and purred. When Sevlyn reached his neck, his purring increased and he stretched out a bit more. There was always something calming when his neck and head was given special attention.

Though he most certainly didn't enjoy the name she had picked for him. It would be embarrassing to say the least if she were to ever find out that he wasn't _actually_ a cat. Even the irony of her saying that cats couldn't speak made him want to chuckle. If he truly wished to play a trick on her, he could easily change the vocal chords and speak with his own voice, but it would be too tedious.

But truly, _Fleetfoot_ was anything but satisfying.

Sevlyn spent the rest of her idle hours reading and stargazing with the naked eye out of her apartment window, all the while munching upon a late night sandwich she'd fixed, listening to the never-ending orchestral honking and blaring of cars in the streets twenty stories below. The moonlight cast a pallid nature over the worn, yellow pages of Sevlyn's old Fitzgerald book, the title on the front bearing the words The Great Gatsby already faded and indiscernible. It was the book she favoured the most, the very first reading material bestowed upon her by that nice lady with the blue hat who would always pay visitation to the orphanage on a regular basis, bearing gifts for the little ones who never got anything for Christmas due to monetary discrepancies the administrators of the orphanage had to plough through every year end.

The young woman now wondered wistfully where she was now. The only thing Sevlyn remembered about the woman was the fact that she was a widow and had no children. The thought of her dying alone and without anyone to remember the benevolence she'd filled the hollow hearts of those orphans with made Sevlyn clutch the book tighter. One little act of kindness and forever tethered to the mind of a grown up child.

Sevlyn shut the book and placed it beside her, deciding to slumber upon the bedding for the night. She pulled the covers up to her bosom and made sure the cat was snug and warm next to her. Sevlyn wondered if her own act of compassion had rendered any impact on the feline. Animals were capable of sentiment and feelings, in a way that was so much more than humans. At least, that was her judgment. Sevlyn could only hope it was true. Giving the cat a quick peck on the head with her lips, Sevlyn allowed herself to curl on her side and sleep, hoping once again that she would dream of the lady with the blue hat just so she could thank her again for the book. Come break of dawn, Sevlyn would have to rise early to submit her analyzed work to Coulson and resume her training at the headquarters. She would also have to make a quick dash to the grocery store for proper tuna after work, for Fleetfoot was not at all fond of his meal, not bothering to touch a smidgeon of it, despite how hungry he had seemed. Sevlyn made a quick note of it in her mind before submitting to the pull of fatigue.

Once he was certain that the woman was asleep, he tried his hardest to focus more energy on healing. It was harder when she was watching him. If such a quick recovery were to be witnessed, she may or may not have reacted well. He had at the least six hours to make his escape.

Hours passed when he realized that the healing was more difficult than he had anticipated, he needed more time. Every angle of the strings of healing were strange and awkward. He only hoped that he could shift into the natural form. The early morning sun of Earth had only begun to rise as he stood up on his little black legs and made his way off the bed. At least the larger portion of his wound was closed. He carefully made his way off the bed, slowly moving towards the door of the bedroom, quietly sliding through the crack of the door and finding the obvious front door. Opening it was too much of a challenge for a feline.

The gentle flash of green light only came about for a quick few seconds, revealing the Asgardian curled up on the floor. _Loki_ had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning in pain. Being hit by a human vehicle would have caused significantly less damage to him like this. Finding it much more relieving to heal, he pressed a hand to his side, which the bandages were now on the floor for they had broken off. He slowly made an attempt to stand, realizing that he was sore. _Incredibly_ sore. If he were truly alone he would complain. Though as he reached for the handle of the door, his side split open, causing him to cry out in pain and collapse to the floor.

_Damn, please tell me she didn't hear that._

Sevlyn was stuck in the midst of a strange dream about blue hats when all of a sudden she was dragged back into consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and she pressed her fingers against them to massage the fatigue out of her eyeballs, yawning as she straightened herself to an upright position. She stared into space for a good three seconds, her mind groping around to obtain a clear, steady grip on the real world. Once she'd begun to register things, Sevlyn came to wonder if the strange cry she heard was part of her dream, getting a little confused in the process of detaching from her world of slumber reattaching herself back to reality.

No…the voice had sounded clear-cut. Everything else from her dream was passing of vague, fuzzy events. In fact, it had interrupted her sleep and woken her up. Sevlyn noticed the cat was missing too. Instantly, she removed herself from the bedding and greeted the new morning with a swear on the tip of her tongue. If there was something amiss, the woman would have to commit herself to fixing it. Taking hold of a rusty pan from the kitchen, Sevlyn moved around the apartment cautiously, keeping a concerned eye out for Fleetfoot. As she approached the small foyer, her keen hearing suddenly picked up a voice. It sounded as if someone were groaning and grumbling in pain or frustration, and it belonged to a male. Her heart rate escalate, the rhythmic beating thumping in her ears in correspondence to the jittery sensation roaring through her blood-filled veins. She leaned against the wall and took a deep breath; it was asserted that there was a presence near her doorway, and the thought of danger transpiring exhilarated and frightened her at the same time. _Remember your training. All that you've learned._

She took a final breath and held it in as she moved out of concealment with the pan raised over her head and a battle cry-like holler on her lips. Sevlyn froze midair as she drank in the image of the man sprawled on her floor, her scream stuck in her pharynx, unmoving like the startled, widened eyes that dominated her expression.

She blinked once.

Twice.

"Who the hell are you?!"

She was a bit fierce, not like the frying pan would actually do any damage but make a loud noise and simply _hurt_. Loki wanted to flinch in reaction, but watched as she paused, in which he was unsure on how to react. He could simply tell her that he was an intruder. Yet, intruders wouldn't use the obvious escape. Loki didn't necessarily look as if he was in any shape to get away with such things with his wounds evident, and so the case would simply be too- odd.

His mind searched for a quick answer of her question. His apparel was anything but Earth-like. Loki bit his lip, looking over the terrified and confused features of the woman. The best bet would be to raise his hands in surrender, if it was possible. Shifting his weight, he turned his body to sit on his side, using an arm to keep himself upright. He held up his other arm, a gesture of surrender and gave her a weak smile. No use in lying given the fact he already looked to be a bleeding man.

"—Fleetfoot—?"

Loki's voice cracked, knowing that she would assume no one else to have been around when she named him. The only two to know his name would be the woman and the cat. Loki was the cat- but now he wasn't, and he wondered if she'd try to kill him. Granted, he wasn't unarmed, but he was still hurt and bleeding, and he now owed her a debt given the fact that she had saved- er- _helped_ him.

"Mm- I am _not_ a cat- My apologies."

The confusion was palpable as the atmosphere thickened with it, the woman not at all beginning to comprehend what was transpiring before her eyes. This was beyond her capability. Surely. She stared at the stranger for several solid seconds, too shocked to even lower the pan. Her eyes washed over the prominent wounds sullying pale skin on his limbs and then proceeded to register the queer form of attire he had on, some sort of decorative armor with portions of black leather and hints of dark green lining the fabric.

The silence was severely awkward as Sevlyn could only continue staring at him. He had uttered the name Fleetfoot and then informed her that the cat had been indeed him, in animalistic disguise."Hang on. Just-just give me a second." She mumbled perplexedly, the pan slightly lowered. Sevlyn struggled immensely with this unusual discovery. Frankly she didn't even know what was the proper reaction to this situation.

"Are-are you from outer space? You are, aren't you? Or did you escape from a mad scientist's lab?"

Despite his pain, a smile curved on his lips and the tip of his tongue peeked through his teeth. Loki chuckled, reactions from humans such as these never failed to make him laugh. They truly were petty little children who knew nothing of the universe around them. "Mad scientist's lab?" he repeated, unsure of what it fully meant but it was still funny all the same. Apparently she thought him a mutantor something. Maybe thinking of the experiments they gave to the country's idol man-god who was frozen for a time. Even the woman's reaction to space or him being an alien was still making it funny all the same.

"Ah-space, yes. I am not an experiment. I'm-I'm from another realm. Technically-" he winced, biting his tongue, "-I am not supposed to be here. If- if you would open the door…" he murmured, gesturing to the door in hopes that she would let him leave. She had no idea who she housed, and if she did, she would have most likely left him to die on the road. Humans were always curious and perhaps she wouldn't want him to leave and simply pester him with questions. Loki preferred to avoid that as much as possible.

"Please?"

The woman assessed the situation with a dysfunctional sense of judgment, her mind swirling in an outbreak of questions and was not the slightest bit capable of making the appropriate verdict. She observed him with a queer sense of interest however, this being a much unforeseen first time encounter with an alien at the hem of her very own threshold. Funny. The _man- no, alien? Humanoid alien?_ He was not exactly at the apex of health and professional medical attention was direly needed at this point. The woman was not willing to throw an injured person out of her apartment, and after all, whoever this individual would come to identify himself as, he had still been her _cat._ For a time.

Of course, he wasn't one any longer.

Her eyes flitted to the torn bandages on the ground next to him. The lady straightened and placed aside her frying pan, feeling a tad ridiculous about her choice of weapon. It took her a moment to properly assemble her words as she fell into a state of moderately deep thought, with one hand on her hip and the other balled up into a fist that pressed against her lips gently.

"I don't think it's a good idea if you let yourself get seen by my neighbours. I know Mrs. Hanaway's schedule, she'll be leaving for the grocery store in about ten minutes. Besides, you're kind of… uh…_indisposed_." Sevlyn was amid a desperate attempt to fill the awkward silence. "You're going to need bigger bandages. Hell, I might need to drive you to the hospital." She wanted to make a move and help him up, though her assurance on whether or not it was wise to do so fluctuated, leaving her in a helplessly hesitant condition.

This woman _dared_ to think that she could send him to one of Midgard's medical hospitals? Not only did he hate his personal space being invaded, but he didn't have the energy to be discovered by S.H.I.E.L.D. or anyone alike. They seemed to be everywhere and know everything. He knew that humans liked to test and poke things they didn't understand. It wouldn't be a wise decision on her part. Loki would kill her before letting her drag him to such a dreaded place.

Loki's eyes widened and he shook his head firmly, "Oh- no. I will not let you take me to one of your useless medical wards. They cannot help me. I will be fine if you leave me be. I can heal myself." The words had bite to them, his voice dipping low in hopes she would understand how much he was opposed to it. She couldn't make him, it would be best to determine that it wasn't going to happen now, than later.

Drawing in a breath, he made a quick, and incredibly painful, attempt to stand from his position. Leaning onto his knees and taking hold of the frame of the door, he could feel the warm blood staining his shirts and leather. Though his plan failed, knees giving out and he fell to the ground with a painful grunt. His back even hit the wall, there was a chance it could have been dented. Sucking in a breath, eyes closed for a moment to let a sheer pain pass before making a gesture to shoo her away. "Just… don't _touch_ me…" he winced, trying to catch his breath. It was most likely a very ungraceful and embarrassing happening, no doubt it hurt a bit of his pride. "Give me a moment…"

The woman took immediate notice of his sudden hostile predisposition when she mentioned taking him to seek professional help, and realized that it was, in truth, an idiotic suggestion, what on earth would the doctors know about treating shape-shifting humanoid aliens? How senseless of her to even propose such a preposterous notion. Sevlyn watched him attempt to haul himself back on his feet with a little smidge of sympathy in her eyes, and compulsively moved forth with extended arms to help him when he fell back down. It was a proclivity of hers to react instantly to instinct, though the stranger was obviously not very fond of the idea of receiving aid. She backed away a step and raised her hands in front of her to signify that she indeed meant no harm.

"I think you're going to need more than a moment." Sevlyn commented nonchalantly with raised eyebrows. "Oh please, there's no need for theatrics. Don't act as if you're allergic to humans….or are you?" Her eyes of malachite green looked to the battered man, her urge to simply grant assistance overcoming her scattered nerves. Rolling her eyes Sevlyn walked up to him and placed a hand on his side and lifted his arm over her shoulders, supporting him as she facilitated him to his feet.

"Just let me help, alright?"

Allergic to humans? Oh how he wished he could laugh at her jest, but it would simply help to tear his side more. Though, a few small chuckles did emit from him. He could leave it as an excuse that he simply became easily irritated when under stress, but it was false given that he was _always_ on the edge. Well, maybe not too false. The fact that a mortal woman was trying to bring a bloody _Frost Giant_ off the ground with the leverage of her small form would be incredibly alarming and hilarious. "Woah-woah-" he started, feeling a sharp pain within his ribs forcing him to wince. Loki didn't want to be touched, and if he was going to fall over, he was going to take her down with him. The attempt to pull away was weak, due to prevent her from tumbling to the ground.

"Please know that I weigh _much more_ than you think-" Loki sighed, tried to help take his weight off of her. "Though- I am fairly certain that you know that by now… just- help me get over to your couch, and I'll fix myself. _Literally_- I do appreciate the help, but there is nothing you can do, other than get me some water after you set me down. I'm not being picky… I'm being honest."

The woman instinctively removed her hand from his side upon figuring out that she was probably aggravating his wounds. Deciding that it would be more beneficial for him to take a seat, the woman began guiding him toward her living room whilst supporting his arm with her slight form. He hadn't been lying when he claimed that was much heavier than she would expect as his arm weighed a ton over her shoulder. Still she did her best to prevail the situation and sighed in physical relief once she'd set him down gently on the couch. Sevlyn caught eye of the untouched bowl of canned tuna on the ground and walked over to pick it up, feeling a little awkward as she did so. Smiling sheepishly at the man she made a quick dash to her kitchen and obtained a glass of water, bringing along with her a few wet rags and some extra bandages he might require.

Within a few minutes she was back with an entire first aid kit in her hands and other miscellaneous items that were not asked for. Of course, that and the glass of water. Sevlyn pushed everything off her coffee table to accommodate her handful of domestic medical equipment and set them before the stranger on the surface.

"These might seem a little excessive, sorry about that. Oh, your water. Here." Sevlyn handed the man the glass, urging him to take it.

"I gathered a few things that might alleviate your pain…but I'm low on anesthesia."

Once he was comfortable on the couch, or comfortable to an extent, he was still hurting practically everywhere. Though he had tried to heal as a black cat, it was all practically undone when the seal broke during his escape. The fact that he hadn't been able to leave sat bitterly. The woman had left him alone for a few moments, getting his water is what he assumed but it seemed to him that it was taking her a bit longer. Loki would have wondered what she was doing, but he was too busy trying to sew a rib back in place with a strand of magic. His hand had resided on his side, but there was no movement other than what he felt. There was a faint taste of iron in his mouth, which then reminded him that he was biting his tongue too hard to try to refocus his pain.

She returned, pulling him away from his focus. He held back a groan, or at least a sigh of frustration. Loki opened his eyes and reached for the water she handed him, having forgotten that it had been ages since he had legitimately drank anything. He ended up drinking the entire glass before handing it back to her. Taking note of what she placed before him, he almost wanted to scoff. Loki had stated that he did _not_ require her help and that he could do it _on his own_.

Loki nodded anyways, taking a breath from practically inhaling the water. "Thank you… though, I heal differently. Give me an hour or so to see if I might need anything else…" His words were evidently more kind than his thoughts, only because well—he owed her at least kind words, it was all he felt led to give.

Not entirely sure what to do next, Sevlyn stood before him rather awkwardly for a few solid seconds, keeping her eyes attached to the situation at hand, whispering unproductive suggestions to herself while her fingers absent-mindedly connected and disconnected behind her. Her eyes flitted to the clock suspended on the wall, wincing upon finding out that she was running late for work. Director Coulson wasn't going to be an easy man to mollify after this, seeing that he took punctuality almost too seriously, not that she disagreed with him on that aspect. She noticed that the stranger's hand had been stationary over the injured section of his chest for over several minutes, naturally growing curious of what he was actually attempting to achieve by doing so.

"An hour's fine, just make sure you don't freak anyone out on the way out of the building." The woman picked up the empty glass, threw it up and caught it with her other hand, slowly backing away and walking to the kitchen once more to refill it. "You look like you could use some help…" She called out as she moved back into the living room with a brimming glass of clear water in hand. "I'm no expert in alien anatomy, but mind if I took a look?" There was something about this man that triggered a distant memory, she wondered earnestly what on earth it could be, what exactly her mind was trying to grasp from far into the past.

"This is turning out to be an interesting morning," Sevlyn muttered, emitting a nervous laugh. "I take it that your name is…?"

"Hopefully…" he started, feeling as if he was beginning to run out of breath, "If I am able to heal enough by the time I leave, no one will even notice me. Let alone see me." Loki shut his eyes, trying to focus on the strands weaving everything back together. It hurt, but it wasn't the most painful thing he ever felt, by far. He didn't notice the woman leave, not until he heard her voice sounded from the other room. The god could only focus on one thing as of now. But she had returned, holding the clear water in the glass. "Well— there isn't much you can do if you _did_ look me over, but if it makes you feel better…" There was a snap, or something like a click, that came from his armor, and he practically sighed in relief. Perhaps he should have tried that first. Wincing, he waved his hand in a dismissal of the dirty metal pieces, that at some point was gold, but now looked to have lost the majority of it to dirt and grime, and they vanished in a blink of an eye. He then began to work on his clothes, wincing now and again to help clear it away from his side. Loki wasn't sure why he was doing this, letting her help, but maybe a little input would be useful. After all, she was the one who had the bandages. "Technically, this isn't all from the hit of the vehicle… I was simply battered and bruised beforehand. Worry not, I'll be out of your hair soon." Though he did pause to consider a name to give himself, he wasn't going to give her his birth name. Too tedious. "You can call me Fenrir. And what do I call you?"

"Fenrir…interesting. I'm Sevona. I don't know my true name my actual mother gave me and I can only remember that it sounds something like that. The kids at the orphanage called me something else for three years until I was able to come up with my own name."

Sevlyn sat herself down next to him, maintaining a respectable distance while hesitant fingers fumbled at the metalwork of his armour, gently settling upon the thin fabric of his clothing. She had him expose partially the fresh wound glistening with liquid rubies. "That looks bad…I might have something that could help…" Sevlyn unlocked her first aid kit and removed a small, slender injecting device, not exactly something one would find within a collection of traditional emergency equipment. "It's something I stole-no, borrowed, from work. I wanted to experiment with it and I guess you're my first test subject. It's supposed to work on beings like you. Aliens. Don't worry it'll only sting for a bit. It'll help you quicken your healing process." Sevlyn's thumb hovered over a small button on the device and pressed it, piercing the protracted end into pale skin. "This serum greatly enhances the regeneration of cells. It conforms and adapts to the requirements of your deoxyribonucleic acid, or, DNA, which everyone finds much easier to say, and once it identifies your chromosomal data it'll be able to help speed up mitosis. You'll feel better soon and also you'll notice that your skin patches up real quick." The device emitted a beep, its small glass screen lighting up with information. "Says here that your tissue is three times denser than similar human tissue. Incredible. Anyway, I know, I chatter too much, I get that a lot. In the meantime, I think I could help you clean up the rest of your wounds. Would you mind that? And I'm sorry I don't mean to be rude but you mentioned that you were going to heal yourself…? How does that happen?"

To be honest, he should have been more careful. Loki was mainly beginning to simply focus on his healing. He only decided to let the woman see so that she could think she was helping, perhaps he was only trying to get her to shoo herself away without chewing her out. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen the device, given the fact that his eyes were closed once again, trying to form a spell— wait, _test subject_?

His eyes open and he turned his head, now immediately regretting the decision of tuning her out. "Ah-!" he cried. She just _injected_ a foreign substance into his system. Loki had flinched away, though it was obvious that it was too late, for whatever it was that she had given him was already unwinding the threads of his magic. Apparently the serum had a mind of its own and he _did not_ like the thought of it.

"Hey! Don't move-" The woman exclaimed and she emitted a gasp as the device was forcefully wrenched away from her hands. She watched him scrutinize the little thing, looking to be rather perplexed at its intended function. Sevlyn had tried to enlighten him on the serum and explained what it did, though evidently he hadn't been listening to a word she said. "Calm down, won't you?!" She retorted, repossessing the device by snatching it back. "Don't touch it! If you break this thing, Dr. Banner will skin me alive!" Sevlyn attempted to counter her aggravation, and decided in the end to not cause an unwanted dispute with an alien.

"Are you _fucking_—"

Loki cut off his own words, trying to keep himself calm. Most importantly trying to keep himself from hurting her. "Are you _mad_?! Do you don't just _inject_ another man without his permission-!" He snatched the device from her hands and looked over it, trying to see if whatever it was could do any harm- other than unwind his own spells of healing. He glared at Sevona, wanting to jam the device into her eye socket-

"Just _understand_ that I have the fully ability to heal _myself_, and I do not _need_ the help of a petty mortal whose medicines I have no need of-"

Suddenly she was in a fit of incensed temperament, storing the device in the kit once more and slamming the lid shut. "Petty mortal? I was just trying to be hospitable, thank you very much. You're taking ages just by healing on your own, did you know that? God, why not just get your head out of your ass?!" She picked the kit up and walked away, turning to pop her head back in a few times to yield angry words.

"Oh, and by the way, why don't you take notice of how your wounds are immediately patching up a lot quicker than before?"

He didn't _like_ the way it was feeling and he especially hated how it could easily _unravel his spells_. Yes- he had been healing slower than usual but it was hard seeing that his wounds were forced to shift with him so there was a strange protective reflex he had to work himself around. Let alone he was still _furious_ that she would even think to inject something not of Asgard— but **_no._**_ No,_ she hadn't have said Banner, had she? All of his movements had stopped and he simply just stared ahead of him.

_Did she just bloody inject me with something that damned monster created?_

There was a bit of panic that rose up in him, wondering if there was a way to bleed out the medicine to get it out of his system. It would be safer that way- but if this Dr. Banner was the same as the one he had met, then he needed to leave this woman, leave this _building_. Such a device was familiar in design- and he could have sworn that there was a S.H.I.E.L.D. image somewhere on it but he wasn't sure. Loki knew that he was standing on thin ice, and that hiding his identity was crucial.

But in the end, she was right. He was healing much quicker despite the fact that he had failed in healing himself. He had been in too much of a rush to fix it anyways. Though Loki had gone completely silent from when she mentioned Banner's name. Snapping himself out of his thinking, he turned to examine himself, to see that she was right. Honestly, it was nerve racking to assume that the monster had made this.

Sevlyn kept the emergency kit in a secret compartment hidden well within the walls in her bedroom along with a multitude of other miscellaneous S.H.I.E.L.D. items that happened to be rejects from the lab made functional again by her own hands. Ensuring that everything was well secured, she stomped back to the living room with a bag filled with files upon realizing that she still had a little paperwork to sort out before actually heading out to work. And there was that insolent eunuch to keep an eye on anyway. She stopped midway and made a detour back to the kitchen, opening two cans of soda and bringing one before the trickster on the table. He seemed to still be fussing over the little misconstrue about the serum what with the scrupulous examining of his already partially healed wounds.

"I got some soda for you, to take the edge off the 'shock." She jested and smirked, finding his overreaction rather entertaining. "Drama queen, aren't you?" Sevlyn took a sip of her cola as she set up her little work station on her end of the table. She turned her laptop toward her side to avoid him peeping at her work and left him to tend to himself a while she signed and sorted a few papers. She sighed and pinned with a gaze.

"Look if you're still mad about the unexpected injection, I'm sorry, okay? How's that? Mortal medicine is not as incompetent as you think now, is it? Change of perspective, my friend." A small smirk tugged at her lips.

Soda? If it was anything other than an alcoholic beverage he would be anything but interested. Senova sounded as if she expected him to be from this realm even when she knew he wasn't. Though, she may have been correct in calling him a drama queen, (which was partially true) but it was still unnecessary to have done such without his permission. But all in all, he stopped fidgeting and simply lay still, letting the serum do its work. It was going to do its thing anyways, no matter how badly he had wanted to do it himself.

He listened to the woman now working with her papers, which he was so desperately trying to see from his distance- perhaps he could possibly spot an official S.H.I.E.L.D. image. Though if he doesn't, his paranoia would still remain. Loki sighed, nodding his head and portraying an expression that he accepted her apology and tried to convince himself that her deed wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be. After all, if she were of S.H.I.E.L.D. then it was rather obvious that she didn't recognize him, and for now, he'd be relatively safe. "I appreciate your help. Unfortunately I have had some life experiences where I would rather keep from remembering. Especially when it comes to being injected with _things_- most importantly _poisons_. So, my own apologies for not trusting a _stranger _I've just recently met."

_Life experiences? Poisons? _Sevlyn ceased her filing of paperwork and turned to take a gander at him. There was candour in his visage, and his eyes expressed some sort of unease perhaps from an undisclosed ordeal or incident. The woman always had the ability to read people with a generous sum of acuity, though they were not always open books to her. Feeling a little guilty and a tad bit awful, maybe she should have taken a different approach with the injection, she'd wrongly assumed that he would not mind it after taking notice of the evident pain he was struggling to plough through. There was a tinge of sarcasm to his last sentence, and it managed to quirk up a slight smile from the woman as she tried to conceal her guilt.

Sevlyn shut her laptop and turned toward him with crossed legs. _Fenrir, is it? _Her memory had the tendency to slip, but she was sure that was his name. Curiosity had begun to bloom, and she would perhaps try to a non-creepy extent to get to know the alien. Her anger had fizzled out, and she thought it was probably time for her to acknowledge the mistakes on her side.

"I'm sorry too, about the serum. I thought it'd be your priority to get healed as soon as possible." She gave him an amiable smile. "Fenrir, right? Maybe we got off the wrong foot. Why don't you tell me more about yourself and then I will if you don't mind sharing histories?"

He thought it would be best for him to allow himself to lighten up. The woman seemed to be harmless, at least from the outside, and with the serum preventing him from needing to use his energy on healing, he could defend himself in no time at all. Loki shifted, turning his head in more of a direction so that he could study her. His assumptions were still in thought, but he assumed it all to be harmless anyways. Even if the woman were of S.H.I.E.L.D. what was she to do about it? Killing him would be rendered impossible, especially since she had helped rid him of his vulnerability. He could kill her and let his secret die on her lips.

"Well- yes I do wish to heal quickly. I'm on a bit of a quest and would like to return to it soon. The _Master_ doesn't like to be kept waiting," he chuckled slightly and shrugged his shoulders, "Technically, you gave me a name. Fleetfoot as I remember it. But yes, Fenrir is correct." Loki couldn't help but let his slight smile fade when she mentioned histories. How was he to think of something that would have no relation to what his brother might have spoken of? "If I were to be honest, I do not have a clean history. Most of it is rather personal and I tend to keep it to myself. But, I can say that I am a traveler. I've been to many worlds and seen many different people. Though let me tell you- it isn't as fun as it seems."

Fueled by the essence of curiosity, a smile seized the span of her lips. Was he intentionally trying to be elusive? Sevlyn had to admit that her proclivity for pressing questions was quite the issue, and she certainly thought it best to not raise anymore inquiries regarding his past, provided with the fact that Fenrir had admitted that he would be of more comfort keeping the information to let her eyes perform a quick study on him, and she could detect that he was doing the very same with her. Sevlyn could see that he had relaxed, relegating to the quiet surrounding of her apartment. Her gaze stretched out past the window and drank in the image of the morning sun. She would need to attend work soon, knowing well that Fury would be expecting her analysis report. She wondered if she could leave him here in the apartment alone until he felt well enough to take leave…though that won't exactly leave her with the best reputation as an accommodating host.

"Quest? Master? This sounds like an epic adventure story all of a sudden." She couldn't help but grin. Hearing Fenrir mention the ridiculous name she had bestowed upon him warranted a small chuckle. "It's not bad, is it? I have to say, I prefer you in cat form. I have to run for work soon, but I don't believe leaving you alone here would be the wisest of decisions. I think I'll take my leave when you take yours. That sounds alright, I hope?"

"Anyway, since we have a few more moments to spare, enough about your history, would you rather enlighten me about your 'quest' or would you like to hear something about me?" _Wait. Did I sound conceited? _

Oh right- he was supposed to be leaving. Perhaps he would give himself a bit more time to heal, most likely an hour before setting off again. It was tedious to stay too long with someone who he supposed was allied with S.H.I.E.L.D. but still, he wondered what her reaction would be if she were to find out who he truly was. Maybe he would leave that as a surprise to her later. It was nice though, having a civil conversation with another person.

"Well- I suppose I can stay about another hour. Let the healing set in for a bit before I move around too much. That was my mistake last time. I fled before it became worse, and I ended up on the wrong planet, being hit by one of your large vehicles in improper form. At least I can say that I tried." Loki gave her a bit of a playful smirk, shrugging off his wounds like they were nothing. "I've had much worse to be honest, I'll be fine." He considered her offer, wondering if he should allow her some insight into what he was doing. What would it hurt? It was always fun to give mortals the stories of the gods, though at times they preferred to make up their own, causing disturbing rumors to run around the realms.

"I _would_ like to hear about your life. I am very certain that we are completely different in how we rule our lives. It would be interesting to hear what you have to say. But- if you want a small peek into such a quest of mine…" he tipped his chin up slightly, letting his pride show through the show of his teeth. "I am searching the realms for a set of rare stones. Though they aren't just any simple rocks, they have special abilities. If one can acquire them all, they can access a powerful tool in which they can create and destroy anything they desire. I plan to use it to build my own happy ending, and escape all that this life has placed on my shoulders."

Sevlyn thought silently to herself that it would be polite to lend a keen ear to his stories which he clearly expressed an inclination for. Of course, to a human, they sounded incredibly far-fetched, and when it came to the subject of discerning fact from fiction as how skepticals are always predisposed to, Sevlyn realized she couldn't judge the authenticity of his stories and uncover possible hoaxes with success; he did after all transform into a cat she named Fleetfoot. She simply raised an eyebrow at the impartation of his quest, a few questions unyielding on her tongue. _Truly, did such relics exist in the universe?_ It was an exciting thing to ponder about.

Rare stones, he had declared. The Tesseract came into mind and danced on the tip of her tongue, but that was covert information she was not allowed to divulge at will. Build his own happiness? Escape? How does one escape from life? The concept did not sound feasible, and Sevlyn was still yet to understand what he truly meant. She had been led to believe that the Tesseract was perhaps the most lethal and powerful object in the universe, and now she realized that there was so much more than met the eye. She trembled a little at the idea inside. These objects or tools have the power to do and undo the thinkable and unthinkable; and Sevlyn wondered with a quickened heart if how could such power even exist in the first place. It was things like this that always brought upon the world calamity and destruction and death. Had she been given a choice, Sevlyn would choose to endeavor to destroy these items instead.

She had let her mind drift a step too far and realized it was her turn to speak. Drawing her eyebrows together, she tried to summarize her entire life into a few short sentences. "Where do we begin?" She gave a slight smile. "Well, I was found on the doorstep of an orphanage in the outskirts of London twenty-five years ago by the lady who would eventually become my guardian. There was no note unfortunately, nothing that could connect me to my biological parents, except…" Sevlyn raised a hand to her neck and pulled out the locket from beneath her shirt. "…for this. She told me I had this on when she discovered me, and that if she touched it or tried to remove it I would burst into tears and start to wail and wake the entire orphanage up. I've been wearing this all my life, it's the only thing that connects me to my past." Strange thing, sentimentality. Little did Sevlyn know that the necklace was made of a rare metal found in the earths of the realm Vanaheim, an element so precious that the privilege of adorning oneself with it in the form of jewelry was only extended to royal blood. "Anyway, I was raised in that orphanage and attended a crappy school and somehow emerged a valedictorian, earned my way into a local university and graduated with a professional degree in political science and military history and security studies. Then I got a job as an analyst. Tada, my life story. Not exactly the most interesting, but, yeah."

During the beginning of her story it simply sounded a bit like a boring tragedy. But his attention wasn't necessarily drawn towards her words until she had brought out her locket. For a moment, his eyes simply drifted towards it, though he only looked through it. There had been a familiar design on it, and after his eyes had drifted away from it again, he was brought back. Oh, damn it was familiar. His eyes narrowed as he concentrated and took note of the element that _should_ be foreign to Earth, let alone someone so mortal and in no relation-

"Let me see that for a moment."

Loki had almost interrupted her sentence, for he had only been half-listening, especially after his eyes and mind had caught sight at the wonder before him. He moved from his position on her couch, taking note that he wasn't wincing from the pain as he brought himself closer to the woman. Stretching out a hand, he grasped the small the locket and looked it over. Such a piece wouldn't have been allowed anywhere else, other than the Vanaheim bloodline. Questions filled his conscience as he wondered why the royal family of Ralegar allow his infant daughter and _princess_ live on such a dying realm? Loki was left baffled and ultimately intrigued. And yet he was unsure of how to approach her about it.

The moment Fenrir shifted his juxtaposition to increase proximity with the lady she became a little wide-eyed, and even more so when he proceeded to wrap his digits around the accessory. Sevlyn was a little offended that he would reach out and simply touch a personal item without her say-so, though she decided to stay quiet and merely exhaled in annoyance. He did not even seem remotely interested in her story, despite his statement before, that is, until she noticed that he was inexplicably drawn toward the locket. Only then did intrigue blossom in his eyes, and she raised an eyebrow at the matter.

Lifting up her locket so that she could see it as well, a smile curved his lips as he gestured towards it. "Do you know what this is? Well- you sort of do but… This is made of a rare metal that is only found on one realm or well- planet. It is known as Vanaheim, the realm of the Vanic gods or well… Æsir. But, what fascinates me about this… is that only those of the royal family would be gifted with such jewelry. Especially with _this_ emblem. Now… I think that there is more to you than meets the eye, my dear."

Sevlyn's mind began to spin when he started explaining the origins of the material of her pendant and the symbol it bore as if he'd known it all his life. She was on the verge of disregarding it in a fit of laughter, but it was true that she found out some time ago the mystery of the necklace. Sevlyn had spent hours in the lab conducting concise examinations in hopes of finding anything at all that could be clue to uncover details about her biological parents but to no avail, instead she realized that it wasn't made of platinum or palladium or silver, it was something else of similar quality but very different chemical structures. It was an element certainly not of this Earth. And there was the strange symbol to be considered as well….but-

_Vanaheim? Other planet? Vanir gods? GODS?_

_Codswallop!_ It all sounded absurd.

Her mind wandered, settling on a vague memory of a particular hammer wielding individual tearing through a horde of armored aliens down the streets of Manhattan. _Thor_, they called him. And he was the only god she'd seen and knew about in actuality.

"I-I beg your pardon?" She breathed, trying to stimulate a laugh. "Are you serious? Other planet? Gods? Royal family? That sounds a little bit too far-fetched, even though yes I guess the world knows they exist, you know, 'cause of Thor and stuff. Have you heard of him? _Anyway_, I know there's a whole planet of them out there, but that can't be it." A part of her believed him, despite her reaction, and in all honesty she was truly intrigued to find out more.

"What next? I'm the crown princess of this-this…_Vanaheim_?!" Another peal of laughter glittered through the air.

"-Yes. That is _exactly_ what I am saying."

Evidently it was quite a bit for her to take in. Sometimes he had forgotten how different the cultures were. Earth hadn't known of other races on other worlds until Thor fell out of their sky, and still they were just as clueless as a fly. Loki had grown knowing of the different people and realms. He was still simply shocked of the fact that he may have had found Vanaheim's lost princess. Surely this could mend the riots that still reigned in the realm since the rulers of the land had gone missing as well. But what still confused him was the fact that such an important girl was left on such a world. Were they not planning to return for her?

Loki had tried to keep from flinching at the name of Thor. But the fact that she even knew of him, he wondered if she knew of Loki, the destroyer of well… the 'stuff' as she said. 'Thor and stuff.' Maybe she wasn't part of S.H.I.E.L.D. Still, she didn't recognize the enemy that was directly in front of her face.

"You see, I do not think you know much of your Norse Mythologies, but my name is in there Fenrir is the wolf-son of Angerboda and Loki. Granted, those are stories that reign from Asgard, in which most - mind you - are not _actually_ true. But, I know much about all of the realms that surround you, Vanaheim especially. Thor would even know of you as well. Honestly, what I speak is nothing but the truth. You must be the heir of the Vanir throne."

Sevlyn stared at him, unblinking, eyes wide and gaze suspended, her lips inexorably turned up into a fraction of a compressed smile. Her maw quivered, and there was nothing that could hold the roar of laughter in. "_Wow. Just. Wow._ This has been the most interesting day of my life. No seriously. I wake up today and so far I have made three discoveries. One, I've run out of tuna for my sandwich, no doubt in that, thanks to you, and two, my cat is not really a cat but a traveling shape-shifter, and three, apparently now I'm bloody alien royalty!" She threw her hands up in a theatrical gesture and brought them down to bury her face in her fingers, trying to stifle her incessant fit of laughter. _"….I swear this feels like an episode of the Twilight Zone."_

She rose from her seat and collected her belongings, thinking it appropriate to leave while ushering him along as well before her morning got any more insane. Surely there was a proverbial limit to even this sort of crazy. "Thank you for laughs, it's been a pleasure, I think I'm gonna go now and you should too. I'm sure you have a busy schedule all planned out, searching for your, uh, magic stones or whatnot." She draped her bag over her shoulder and strode to the foyer to acquire her keys.

"You're kind of a funny guy." She laughed and turned to face him. "Honestly I wish you were still a cat so I could keep you. Look, not to say that I don't believe you, it's just….I don't believe you." Sevlyn breathed a laugh, feeling it churning in the depths of her throat.

"Sorry, for an ordinary person like me, it's a little bit too bizarre and…._.implausible_! Princess of _Fana-whatever_. _Okay_." She stopped to concede to yet again another urge to giggle. _"I'm gonna stop talking. Door's over here."_

He wasn't exactly sure how to react. She could have been mocking him. Sevona just continued to laugh and practically lose her grace over a rather important fact that she should be taking seriously. One never throws away their royalty unless it was of great importance, but she was simply just waving it off. To him it was rather frustrating, and he backed away to start fixing his armor manually. It then became obvious to him, that she was simply blowing it off in a complete manner of unbelief. He couldn't tell if she was trying to come to terms with it or legitimately turning down his facts. One day it was going to be a necessity for her to know and understand, especially if others find her holding the hidden crown of blood.

With a few snaps, his armor was back to how it should be. Granted, he was still sore, but other than that, Loki was decently grateful to feel slightly better physically. He listened to the woman ramble on how she thought it was hilarious and simply out-right batshit crazy, but it only grew a bit of disliking towards her.

Taking a few careful moments, he slowly brought himself up, straightening his coat and running a hand through his hair. Loki couldn't help but give her a bit of glare, simply turning down his information. It wasn't a jest, and with how obnoxious she was, it bothered him. He made his way to the door, waiting for her to open it and begin her leave first.

"Also," he started, simply trying to ignore her snickers, "There is only one thing I have lied to you about. I thought that seeing as I was your guest, that it would be kind of me to tell you."

For some reason Fenrir seemed to be disinclined by her laughing fit which made her wonder whether or not he was the sort to be intolerant. She wanted to apologize, and ended up having to force down another swell of urge to prevent from guffawing as the ridiculous notion crossed her mind once more. Elevating her gaze, she pressed a fist against her lips and noticed him submitting a hostile glare. He didn't look to be too fond of her now. Apparently it wasn't all that comical to him, and she relentlessly battled the idea of actually considering whatever he had told her regarding the locket and how it was a foreword to the rest of her true identity.

Feeling a little stroppy, Sevlyn unlocked the door, opened it and stepped out and awkwardly gestured for him to come out after her. The magical shape-shifting alien appeared to have a statement on the tip of his tongue, Sevlyn had noticed, amid all the monkeyshines cartwheeling in her head about what Fenrir had just informed her a good few minutes ago. She adjusted the sling on her bag, double-checking to see if she had all of her significant files at hand, lending a halved attention span to Fenrir. She moved to lock the door behind her.

"Oh? _A lie? Little and white_?"

Pocketing the key, she turned around to face him properly, her fingers rising to brush away a loose, black strand of hair in her face with a little smile playing on her lips.

"Okay, let's play confessions. What is it?"

Loki had followed her out the door, thinking on how to deliver his little message. If he would deliver it at all, only due to his frustration. It would most certainly be necessary at some point; he could find use for her and his identity would need to be crucial. One day she _would_ come to terms with it, and it might just crush her world. There was a shift in his expression. It merged from unamusement, to simple smugness.

"Remember how I told you my name was Fenrir?"

Granted, it was a bit dangerous to even tell her, given Loki's assumptions of her connection with S.H.I.E.L.D. But it would be fun. Perhaps if he were to tell her who he truly is, then either she would believe his accusation even more so, or take it as a full on lie. God of Lies he was known for. It wouldn't matter anyways, seeing as that was the truth and nothing but.

"Well, according to Norse Mythology from Earth, it is the name of Loki and Angrboda's son. You remember how I told you earlier, yes? But there is just one fault in my story."

A large grin spread across his face, showing a bit too much teeth. Running a hand through his raven hair, he acted nonchalant and shrugged. He let the statement ring out for a moment, and being the Trickster he was, it would most likely be the last she would see of him. Loki tried not to snicker.

"Loki doesn't have any children."

He threw her a new smile, watching for her to blink once more. And when she did, he vanished from her sight. She was a smart girl, there would be no doubt that she could figure it out on her own. Especially if she could remember anything _about_ his last visit to Earth, S.H.I.E.L.D. and all. If he were to see her again, he would surely love to hear her reaction to it.

His presence had simply vaporized into thinnest air and as the seconds stretched on the woman suddenly made the harrowing realization that she had been stripped of the ability to breathe. His words made their slow descent upon her, wriggling underneath her skin and seeping into the marrow of her bones.

_Loki._

The name stimulated her memory, and she recognized it. He claimed that he had mentioned it in passing, and Sevlyn figured that she must have missed the intimation.

_Loki._

The name was there again, imposing its lethal glory in the recesses of her mind, more clear and distinct, the voice that pronounced it deep and dark. She had been housing a madman, no, the madman, all this while. The woman remembered very vividly the time Earth was on the verge of alien domination, and the aftermath that came about that had her on wits' end aiding with the clean-up. She, in fact, had been on the helicarrier behind the computers before getting dispatched to the main facility in New York with a team of analysts to retrieve any information of significance from the ground databases before everything got destroyed in the crossfire. It had been dire time, and she had also been the first hand witness too many civilian deaths….and if it weren't for the agents escorting the team she would've been unceremoniously killed at the hands of a Chitauri. All that hectic drama never landed her the chance to have a proper gander at the one who was behind all of it even though his name flashed and zipped past her ear a few times here and there. And now she had.

The surprise was quickly wiped away completely by an infernal storm of rage. She thought about the innocent lives lost. God, she had given him shelter and medicine, that much hospitality and many provisions for an intergalactic criminal! And apparently he had thought it absolutely, oh, wondrously, amusing to reveal the truth to her and then disappear altogether completely. Well he wouldn't find it that much amusing if I see him again. I'll choke the goddamn life out of him. That lying son of a bitch. The fact that she would probably never see him again consoled and infuriated her at the same time. Sevlyn stifled the urge to kick at her own door and stomped away. On the way to work she decided that she would tell no one of her unfortunate and chanced encounter with a SHIELD enemy, she would probably get interrogated to no end. Coulson was always prissy and starchy when it boiled down to this kind of stuff. It was going to be hard to explain anyway, the story would come out ridiculous and unaccommodating on the ears. So when she strode into the headquarters, she gave the classic excuse of traffic as a reason to justify her compromised punctuality and kept her mouth shut as she settled on her desk and got to work. Her ever-ensuing daily routine managed to spurn away the unattractive recount, and soon it became a vague recollection as work began to form almost insurmountable piles on her desk over the course of the next month.


End file.
